A Living Room Picnic

This winter has been especially frigid.  I don’t know if it is because I’m getting older but I feel the cold more keenly than ever.  Alan turns into a human popsicle once winter sets in.   Our kitchen also experiences changes during the winter season.  As if over-wrought with envy, it tries to mimic the outdoors by treating us with it’s version of winter temperatures.  In the ten years that we’ve lived in this house, every winter we complain how cold the kitchen is and retreat to the warmth of the living room under the glow of the tv.

After Nate was born, our routine was switched up a bit once he was old enough to sit in a high chair.   I’m not sure if it was the excitement of watching our baby begin to eat solid foods or the extra fifteen pounds gained during pregnancy that insulated me, but I didn’t feel the cold as much.  Somewhere in my vague memory, Alan was standing by wearing several layers of shirts and sweaters while shivering and admiring the purple color of his nail beds.

In the past three years of eating dinners in the kitchen, Alan and I had brief discussions as to how to make the room warmer.  The first attempt was to seal the large crack between the back door and the door jam with foam insulation.  At first this helped a little but the arctic chill remained.  Then I noticed the blast of cold air coming through the bathroom vent in the ceiling.  Alan disconnected the power to the vent and stuffed it with insulation since the shower in that bathroom is used only by visiting guests who stay over.  Unfortunately, that didn’t help much either.

Befuddled by this mystery, we sat in cold that should not have been in our house that we spent good money to keep warm.  I tried to take the positive from this frustrating situation.  My thought was with all the calories I was burning from shivering, I could eat calorie laded food like cookies, cake and even ice cream.  One evening after a week of high temperatures in the 20’s, Alan and I agreed that it was just too cold to eat dinner in the kitchen.  I turned to Nate and asked, “How ‘bout a picnic in the living room?”  The joy on my little boy’s face could not have been greater if I gave him the keys to a toy store and said it was all his.  With pizza on our plates and our attention turned to the movie that Nate picked out, Toy Story 2, we ate in comfort and full contentment. 

Then one day as I was doing chores and putting dishes away, I felt a sharpness of cold at my hand.  I put my hand near a small space between the wall and the cabinets.  I discovered the secret entrance where the cold was sneaking its way in.  I had some of the foam strip insulation left over from the door and used that to block the air from coming in.  It was almost like magic and the kitchen began to warm up.  When Alan got home from work, I exuded pride as I led him to the kitchen and showed him my handiwork.  I couldn’t have been more proud when he said he noticed a difference in the temperature.

Although it is warmer in the kitchen, it is relative to the previous conditions.  The fact that we have to completely remodel the kitchen is a moot point.  It is still cold in there when the outside temperature is below 30 degrees.  When that happens, there is no argument all around when I announce, “Picnic in the living room!”